


Audition

by Vae



Category: Firefly RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-25
Updated: 2006-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vae/pseuds/Vae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another audition goes badly for Sean, and Summer has a solution. Blind date time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sean stared dispiritedly at his cell phone. The message on the screen displayed "CALL ME." He was almost tempted not to, except last time he hadn't, his inbox had filled up within half an hour. Completely filled up. And someone had called his voicemail - mobile and home - and recorded Barry Manilow tracks on it until that was full too. Barry Manilow, for fuck's sake. Nobody had Barry Manilow handy just to record it onto voicemail messages unless they were really twisted. It was worse than his own family.

Sighing, he hit the speed dial button and waited. It rang once ... twice...

"Sean!" the familiar voice squealed. "How did it go?"

"Flunked," he replied, glancing around before beginning the slow walk back to the parking lot. 

"Again? Oh, honey, I'm sorry. What did you give them?"

Sean gave a short bark of laughter. "Give them? Nothing. They never even gave me a chance. Took one look and said that if they'd wanted a short, pretty boy they'd have called Joaquin Phoenix. Joaquin fucking Phoenix. How am I supposed to compete with that?"

There was a short silence. "You're not short, Sean," the earpiece said, considerately. "It's Linda again, isn't it? You really should think about new representation. I can speak to Martine, she's really interested -"

"Well, I'm not," he interrupted. "Linda's doing fine. She sent through my headshots, sent the resume. Hell, I think she even sent the Serenity promo she got together. No, it's the producers again. Not doing their research."

"It's not like they could afford Joaquin Phoenix on their budget, anyway."

"Thanks. That's so helpful." Sean fished the car keys out of his pocket, and struggled with the lock. He'd been thinking of getting the car checked over, but there was no point now.

"I didn't - look, just don't let it get to you. It'll happen, Sean. You're good. Really good. You'll get picked up by some long running show with a nice renewing contract and an option on a TV movie..."

"No, I won't. And you know why?"

"No. Don't even say that. You can't mean it."

Sean let the voice babble on as he dropped heavily into the car seat and pulled the door closed. Eventually, it went quiet. "You all done?"

"No. Waiting for you to start listening again. Listen, Sean, how long are you in LA this time?"

"Flying out day after tomorrow." He leaned over to the radio and punched the power switch just hard enough for the connection to kick in. Great. Barry fucking Manilow again. "Why? You're off filming, aren't you? I heard you got picked up again. Congratulations."

"You heard because I told you, dork."

"Brat."

"Whatever. Anyway, you shouldn't be alone tonight. And don't try to tell me you're not planning on it. You always hide when you're in LA. You go back to your apartment, watch old movies, go through a bottle of Argentinean red and avoid everyone."

Sean groaned. It was true. It wasn't so much that he didn't like the people that were in LA as that bad auditions always got him down. Worse than a bad review, even. Not that he read reviews, but when you got a bad one, people made sure you knew about it. It didn't make him want to go out and socialize with the successful people he knew. And all the people he knew in LA were sickeningly successful. "Summer, if you're going to try and set me up again, forget it."

"You don't have to get serious, Sean. You just need some fun. You need...oooh, I know. He's just perfect for you."

"Summer! Even my real sister is nowhere near as persistent as you." He fought the radio tuner until Debussy flooded the interior of the car. "Look, I have to go or I'll be paying extra on this parking. Just - don't, okay."

"Wait!" the phone babbled frantically. "I'm just worried about you."

"Bye, Summer." Sean hung up and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, ignoring it when it began to vibrate again.

***

By the time Sean closed the door to his apartment, shutting the world out, his inbox was full. Summer and Jewel, this time. And Alan. His voicemail insisted on telling him he had messages, but he refused to pick them up. Somehow he knew there were worse things in the world than Barry Manilow. There was Richard Clayderman.

His answering machine was blinking brightly, announcing messages. He sighed, dropped his jacket on the single, overstuffed chair, and hit the play button. 

"Sean, I mean it. You're not going to be sitting there alone tonight." BEEP

"Strangers in the niiiight, exchanging glaaances..." BEEP

"...With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to..." BEEP

"Sean, I'm sorry, stupid independent film-makers. Look, there's nothing on the books right now, but first thing tomorrow, I'm on the phone, we'll get something through, there are some new projects coming up that look really interesting and just great for you over at..." BEEP

He hit 'delete all' just as the next message started. There was bad music, and then there was Wurzels. Surrendering, he picked up his cell phone, and dialed. "Summer?"

"Sean!"

"I give up. Just stop filling my voicemail, I actually have to listen to all those, you know, because there are genuine messages there too."

"I'm sorry." She actually did sound genuinely contrite for a change. Still, she was an actress. "Look, it's just one audition, Sean. Anyway, I've already contacted him. It's perfect."

Her excitement made him wary. "Summer, you haven't ... this isn't someone I know, is it?"

"You've met him." Her voice was defensive. "Give it a chance, Sean. I mean, he really likes you. Really. I've seen you two together. He just can't stop touching you, and that's got to mean..."

"All right! Okay. Enough. It's not going to change my mind, you know."

"Oh, I think he might," she teased. "Have fun!"

Sean was left with a silent cell phone happily telling him it had messages for him, and that his inbox was full. He made a desultory effort at deleting some of them then gave up, dropping the cell on the dresser next to the answering machine. He fetched one of the last bottles of Cabernet down from the top of the kitchen cabinets, opened it, dragged the big suitcase out from under the bed and started packing while the wine breathed. It wasn't as if he'd ever brought much stuff to LA to start with.

He'd packed most of his clothes and half his CD collection - and got through the first glass of wine and into the second - when the loud buzz of the intercom interrupted. Closing and fastening the case and shoving it back under the bed, he took the glass with him over to the speaker, and pressed the intercom button. "Sean Maher?"

"Uh, yeah?"

The voice was vaguely familiar, but distorted by the cheap security system. "No, I mean _I'm_ Sean Maher. Can I help you?"

"Summer sent me."

Well. Showtime. He pushed the door release. "Come on up. Third floor, don't try the elevator, it doesn't work."

There was a click to let him know the door had opened downstairs, and he let go. Glancing once more at the clothes he'd left lying on the bed for the night, he shook his head. They would do. Hell, what he was wearing would do.

He tugged the covers back over the bed to hide the fact he hadn't made it that day, headed over to the door to slide the security chain back and waited for the knock on the door. It took longer than he expected. Sean counted back from five under his breath, pasted on a welcoming smile and pulled the door open. 

The smile dropped from his face. "Nathan!"

"In the flesh." Nathan grinned. "What, you're expecting someone else?" Not waiting for a response, he pushed past Sean and walked into the tiny apartment. "Summer said she was worried, sent me a text with your address. Gotta say, Sean, never pictured your place in LA looking like this. No wonder she's worrying. This isn't an apartment. This is a shoebox. For tiny shoes."

"I'm surprised she had time to text you, too," Sean muttered, suddenly feeling the urge to defend the studio apartment he hated so much. "Don't worry about this place. I'm moving anyway."

"You are?" Nathan turned his goofy grin on Sean. Sean sternly told his knees not to do that. "That's great! Where to? Somewhere nearer me, I hope. Somewhere I'm less nervous of leaving my car parked, because now I know where you are, you don't get to hide. You've been avoiding us, Sean. Not even Adam knows when you're in town these days. Hey, you could keep this place as a closet. Bit of a way to walk in the mornings, maybe, depends where you're moving to, but it's about the right size. For some of your clothes, anyway, not all of them."

"Nathan."

"So, you ready to go? She said you had some disastrous audition, need a bit of fun. You shouldn't let it get to you, it's just one lousy audition."

"Fun. Right." Sean took a deep breath. "It's not one lousy audition, Nathan, no matter what she said. It's ten lousy auditions in a row, and no work. And they're running out. This is the only audition I've had this month, and none of them led even as far as a screen test. The rental agreement's up on this place, and I'm not renewing it."

"Right, you said. So where you going to?" Nathan prowled the room, scanning the bookshelves. "Stanislavsky, Sean? Go for the old classics, do you? Knew you were a method actor, but still..."

"For fuck's sake, can you stop babbling for a moment?" Sean closed his eyes against the hurt look on Nathan's face. "Look, I don't know what Summer told you, but I'm moving back to Manhattan. Giving up this place. Filming's just ... well, they're not exactly forming a queue outside my door, so I'm going back to what I can do. I'm going back to theater, and not trying to grab for any pathetic script that's thrown at me just so I can pay the rent on this shoebox as well as my place back home." 

"You're doing what?" Nathan stared, temporarily deprived of speech. Very temporarily. Sean took advantage of the moment to deplore the horrendous shirt the man was wearing. 

"Going back home." He shrugged. "So, thanks for coming over, great to see you, I'll just be getting on with the packing and maybe we'll run into each other again some day."

Large hands closed on his shoulders. "No, you're not, Sean. Leaving this dump, fine, but you're not giving up. You're way too good to give up. And that's the last of the compliments you're getting from me until you're ready to go out. This what you're planning on wearing?" He jerked his head towards the bed.

Buckling in the face of Nathan's bullish energy, Sean nodded. 

Nathan studied the clothes critically then looked Sean up and down assessingly, still holding him firmly in place. Sean refused to blush at the frank appraisal. He'd had worse from casting directors and agents. Honestly. Just...not quite so appreciative, maybe. Appreciative? This was Nathan. He'd appreciate almost anything as long as it would flirt with him. "Yeah, it'll do." He flung the clothes at Sean. "Go get pretty. Fun is in order."

Sean made one last desperate attempt to escape. "Nathan, you do know what Summer is playing at here, don't you?"

"Trying to get you laid so you'll stop thinking about giving up."

"Right. So...you do know."

"Not stupid, here. Just charming, lovable, handsome, devastatingly intelligent...get dressed. We have to go out and get you laid. I'm scared of that girl." Nathan winked. "Play your cards right, might find yourself ending up with someone as good as me."

Trying hard to hold on to his bad mood, Sean escaped into the bathroom with his clothes clutched to his chest and locked the door firmly. Hopefully Nathan would never work out that when he was around, Sean didn't want to end up with someone as good. Because there wasn't anyone else as good. 

He changed quickly, scowled at his reflection, ran some more gel through his hair, scowled again for good measure, and opened the door to see Nathan sitting in his chair, flicking through the latest "Players of Shakespeare" Ed had shipped out to him. 

Nathan's face lit up when he noticed him. "See? Pretty. Now, let's hit the town. I know this great little bar. You're gonna love it. Honestly. The women there are so hot you could cook on them. Men aren't bad either."

Grabbing his jacket and keys as Nathan tugged him out of the door, Sean wondered if that throwaway comment was supposed to be for his benefit or Nathan's. It was pretty much an open secret that Sean was gay - possibly one of the reasons he was finding it so hard to get work - but there'd never been more than hints that Nathan would even consider dating a guy. Okay, they'd been pretty big hints, but still. Hints.

"Just gonna run the car back to my place, 'kay? I leave her here, she's gonna get scared and beat up by some mean nasty old...Jesus, I don't even know what that rustbucket of a vehicle's called."

Sean rolled his eyes as he was dragged past his own car.

***

"I mean, _Slither_? You really had to make a trashy gore-filled horror movie? I mean, I don't even _like_ horror movies. Joss' fucking _Reavers_ gave me nightmares." Sean tucked one foot under him on the couch so he could turn to face Nathan, and prodded Nathan's chest with one finger of the hand wrapped around the neck of his beer bottle. "I nearly didn't go and see it, you know."

Nathan pushed his hand away. "Ow! You can talk, Maher. Hey, let's make another movie about some jock who gets a terminal disease and finds the true value of life! The Disney remake on DVD was bad enough, but you had to do it again and rip my damn heart out _again_? Think next time you can make a movie that doesn't involve your character dying, or nearly dying? It's not a healthy trend, Sean."

Sean took a slug of beer and went quiet. "Bad?"

"Oh, shit, I didn't mean..." Nathan set his own beer down and reached out to grasp Sean's forearm. Summer was right, Sean noted hazily. The man was always touching him. "Look, the movies were bad, okay? You weren't. Or did you miss the bit about you ripping my heart out? You choose bad movies, but you're fucking amazing in them. Wait. _You_ went to see _Slither_? You hate gore."

Sean sighed, bringing his other knee up. "Yes, I went to see _Slither_. And it's not like I get to pick and choose what I want to make. Not like some people. I go for an audition, they offer me something - well, once in a blue moon - and I take it, because it's work, because it's money. You, Nathan, you get to choose, and you chose _Slither_?" He took another drink. "Wait. You saw _Living 'Til the End_? They hardly even released the damn thing."

"Which makes it fucking hard to find, let me tell you." Nathan nodded solemnly, fingers stroking the soft skin on the inside of Sean's wrist. "Jesus, Sean, you really have to make something decent. You'd blow them all away. Me, I'm a ham. Signed-up, card-carrying, proud of it, ham. You, you're an artist. It's like every character you create's got all these layers. Like onions. Oniony characters. Peel a bit away and it makes you cry."

"Ibsen," Sean murmured.

"What?"

"Ibsen, Peer Gynt. The onion thing. See, not a ham. Devastatingly intelligent, I believe you said."

Nathan stared at him for a moment and finally let go of Sean's arm. "Rumbled again. Your turn to buy the drinks. Then we'll see about doing what Summer wants."

"Right. Have you any idea how humiliating it is to be adopted by a girl ten years younger than you?" Sean unfolded himself from the couch and stretched, scanning the room. It was full of attractive people drinking and talking in various size groups, but no one he was particularly interested in finding out more about. He didn't really do casual sex, anyway. Things just got messy. And with Nathan along, things promised to get a hell of a lot more messy, because it meant there was really only one person in the bar - hell, in the city! - that he would even consider climbing into bed with. "Same again?"

"Same again." Nathan relaxed back against the couch, one arm resting along the back where Sean had been sitting. "And she's not ten years younger. Quite."


	2. Chapter 2

 

_Several hours later_

"Sean?"

Sean rolled his head to squint up at Nathan. It was a good bar. It had good couches. And good pillows. No, wait. That wasn't a pillow. That was...Nathan's shoulder. Oops. He tried to sit up, but was prevented by Nathan's arm lying heavily over his shoulders. "Um, Nathan?"

"Good. Thought for a moment you'd gone to sleep on me." Nathan grinned down at him. Sean's insides flipped over. It was the beer. Probably the beer. "So. Seen anyone you like?"

"Nathan? Is there a reason your arm's wrapped around me?"

Nathan shrugged, hand sliding over Sean's shoulder blade. "Fits."

Sean considered that. It was a good reason. He couldn't find an argument against it, anyway. "Okay."

"So?"

"Um...what?"

"Okay, Maher. Time to sit up now." Nathan's arm retreated, leaving a cool area across Sean's back, and his hands gripped Sean's shoulders, firmly pushing him upright against the back of the couch. "Less with the sleeping, okay? More with the finding someone to fuck you senseless."

"Oh my God, Nathan!" Sean found himself giggling, and decided it was definitely the beer. Nathan had good taste in bars, but bad taste in beer.

"What? It's why we're here, isn't it? Though I don't think your reputation's gonna get made tonight. You're drunk."

"I'm not drunk." It was true. He wasn't. A little fuzzy round the edges maybe, a little less inhibited, but not actually drunk. 

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Okay. You're not drunk. And you're not leaving LA. And you're not leaving here without someone to take to bed with you. Otherwise, Summer will kill both of us in intricate and beautiful Texan ways I don't want to even consider."

"Nathan?" Sean carefully set his half empty beer down on the table and wished for some water. Or coffee. Or water. Or both. Or water. Water would be good.

"Yeah?"

"Are _you_ drunk?"

"Me?" Nathan looked startled. "Nope, not drunk here."

"Because you know I'm leaving LA, and you just said I wasn't."

"That's something we can talk about in the morning. When both of us don't have hangovers from not being drunk. When you've got laid. Hell, maybe even when I've got laid."

That one was new. "I thought ... you and RuthAnn?"

Nathan shrugged again. "Not so much, recently. In fact, not at all. Hey, how about him? He's cute. Bet he'd show you a good time."

"You are drunk." Sean stared at Nathan, uncertain whether to be concerned, amused - or hopeful. "Nate, that's a mirror. And that's you."

"It is?" Nathan looked confused for a moment, and then grinned. "Well, neat solution to the problem. You get laid, I get laid, Summer doesn't kill either of us, and I get to be around in the morning to make sure you don't leave LA."

Sean dropped his head back against the couch. "I get it. You're playing me. Not funny, Nathan."

"Uh, Sean?"

He lifted his head at the unexpectedly serious tone of voice.

"Not joking. Not playing you. Well, kind of. Summer sort of hinted that you might...that I ... that you're not completely indifferent to me. So playing you in the sense of knowing what she was trying to set up in the first place. And thinking you knew. I tried to call you, but your fucking voicemail wouldn't let me leave a message."

"Oh, my goodness, you're actually _serious_!" Sean exclaimed, and then clapped one hand over his mouth while he tried to collect his whirling thoughts. "Sorry, sorry, that's not what you want me to say, is it?"

Nathan's face was unreadable. "Not quite. Was hoping more for something along the lines of 'About fucking time, now let's go back to your place and screw.' You're not telling me it's a shock to you? Jesus, Sean, I even kissed you back at the Serenity premiere and you did _nothing_."

Sean shook his head. "I thought...the cameras, the publicity...oh, the hell with it." He couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face. "Nate?"

"Yeah?"

He stood up and held out a hand. "What took you so fucking long? Let's go back to my place and screw."

"You never could get your fucking lines right, Sean."

"I get my fucking right, though. Want to stop snarking at me and find out?"

Nathan stood up hesitantly. "My place?"

" _My_ place," Sean repeated firmly. "There's still packing you need to talk me out of in the morning. And I've got supplies I think you might not have worried about for a while."

Ignoring the outstretched hand, Nathan slung his arm around Sean's shoulders. "Could be right, there."

Sean slipped his own arm around Nathan's waist and tried to ignore the building excitement that threatened to set him trembling. "I know I am."

"Sean?"

"Hmm?" He blinked as the warm humid night air hit them both.

"Can we even _find_ a cab that goes to your neighborhood after 8pm?"

***

They did, eventually, find a cab, and Nathan over-tipped heavily to persuade the driver to go out to Sean's neighborhood. Sean tried not to notice, caught up in the unreality of the situation and the tension buzzing through the hard thigh pressed against his own.

Once the taxi had gone, Sean turned back from the door to see Nathan, uncharacteristically quiet, watching him uncertainly. "Nathan? You okay?"

Nathan shook himself and offered a patently false smile. "Peachy. You gonna open that door?"

"Don't think so." Sean leaned back against the door. "Come on, spill. What's eating you?"

"Apart from the fact I can only think of sex when you use words like spill and eating?" Nathan shrugged. "Just nerves, I guess."

"Nerves? _You_?" 

"Hey, it's not funny!"

"I'm not laughing," Sean assured him, pushing away from the door and closing the space between them. "Honestly, Nate, if you don't want to...I can deal with Summer. I've done it before."

"I want to. Jesus, Sean, I want to. Been wanting to for a while now. It's just...fast, y'know?"

Sean felt a slow smile stretch his lips. "Then we'll take it slow. Slow as you need." He reached up to run his fingers slowly down Nathan's face, feeling the scrape of stubble against his fingertips. "Slow enough?"

Nathan's eyes grew heavy and he mirrored the movement. Sean turned his head to nip lightly at Nathan's palm. "Would a kiss be too fast?"

Nathan's mouth covering his own answered that question. Sean gasped, then pushed himself forward against Nathan, arms wrapping around him as his mind processed the fact that this was _Nathan_ kissing him, Nathan's mouth proceeding to reduce him to a pile of quivering need, Nathan's hands fisting in his jacket, Nathan's lips and tongue and teeth...Sean pulled back, breathing heavily. "I guess I should open that door, shouldn't I? Before we speed up."

He couldn't look away from Nathan's face, from the mix of surprise and pleasure and lust in his eyes. Strong hands pushed gently at his shoulders. "Door. Now."

"Right." Sean turned away, cursing his shaking hands as he fought to get the key in the lock. Nathan's hands slid around his waist, and the heat of Nathan's body pressed against his back. Sean's head fell back against Nathan's shoulder at the feel of a hard cock nestled neatly between his ass cheeks. Nathan's cock. "God!"

"Nope. Nathan." The growl in Nathan's voice vibrated along Sean's spine as he finally managed to get the door unlocked. "Though if you decide to start worshipping me..."

Sean twisted around quickly in Nathan's arms and stopped any further words with another kiss. "No worshipping. Get upstairs, we need more privacy." With a swift thrust of his hips, he pushed the door open and backed inside, making sure Nathan was safely in before turning and running up the stairs to try to unlock his apartment door before Nathan could catch up and distract him further.

He had more time than he'd expected, having forgotten how long it had taken Nathan to reach his door earlier on. Enough time, in fact, to unlock the door, wedge it open, and snag a bottle of water from the fridge. 

He was still drinking when Nathan hesitated in the doorway. "Sean? Tell me you're moving somewhere with a working elevator."

"Not having this conversation now." Sean held the bottle out. "Want some?"

Nathan grinned. Sean's eyes widened, and he backed up a step. "Water. I meant water."

"Later." Nathan kicked the wedge away from the door, letting it swing closed. "Much later."

Sean took another swig then set the bottle down. "Not too fast? I thought we were taking this slow."

"Fuck slow," and then Nathan was on him, bearing him back across the room to his unmade bed.

Sean struggled for a moment then realized he really didn't want Nathan to back off and grabbed his shirt collar instead, pulling him down onto the rumpled sheets. "Good plan," he agreed, and began work on the buttons. "How do we do this?"

Teeth caught his ear and Sean shuddered, giving up on buttons and just yanking Nathan's shirt up and sliding his hands inside. Nathan followed suit, tugging at Sean's T-shirt until he pulled it off over his head. "Thought you were the expert here?"

"Nate?" Sean pulled away, suddenly concerned. "You've done this before, right? With a man?"

Nathan let go and rolled onto his back, lifting a hand to run through his hair. "Yeah. I mean...not lots. And it's been a while."

Sean propped himself up on one elbow. "How long?"

Dark blue eyes sparkled. "Depends how happy you make me."

Sean rolled his eyes, trying not to smile. "Not what I meant and you know it. How long?"

"Few years. Does it matter? I want you, and I'm pretty sure you want me. It's not been long enough that I've forgotten what that feels like, Sean."

"Yes, it matters!" Sean let his hand wander back under Nathan's shirt, fingers tracing patterns over his ribs. "It limits things, that's all. Dammit, Nate, do you have to wear things with so many buttons?"

"See, you are drunk if you can't manage buttons. Sure you're not gonna wake up with a hangover and regrets? 'Cause you've not actually said..." 

Sean blinked. "I haven't? Right. I haven't." Finally managing to unfasten the shirt, Sean pushed it open and gazed in appreciation. It wasn't as if he'd not seen Nathan wandering around on set naked before, but that was a few years ago, and Nathan had evidently been working out. He looked Nathan straight in the eye. "I want you. I've wanted you for longer than I'm going to admit to, and I want you tonight."

Nathan let out a long breath and pulled his shirt off. "That's what I needed to hear. Now get back down here and seduce me."

"Seduce you? I hate to break it to you, but you're already in my bed half-naked, which I thought was the point of mmmmmph!" Speech and thought deserted him at once as Nathan's hand in his hair dragged him back into a hot, wet, needy kiss that left him panting for breath. "Okay, okay. Seduction."

The seduction, if there was any, was definitely mutual. Shoes and socks disappeared rapidly, and the buttons on Nathan's pants were much more obliging than the ones on his shirt had been. Any idea of going slowly was abandoned as hands roamed over hot flesh, exploring, stroking, pinching, scratching and soothing, followed by mouths licking, kissing, biting. It wasn't neat and pretty - Sean managed to hit Nathan's face with his elbow at one point and Nathan leaned rather too heavily on Sean's abdomen as he tried to kiss his way around his ribs to his spine, but it didn't matter. Bumps and bruises were nothing to the urgent need that drove them both. 

Sean skimmed his hand lightly over Nathan's dick one more time and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Nathan's boxers with a wicked grin. "Sure about this?"

"Sean," Nathan warned, and pushed his underwear off himself. "Stop talking and fuck me."

"No way, Nate." Sean followed his example, dropping his boxers to the floor with little regard for where they landed.

"No?"

"No, not the first time. Not if it's been years. Want you too much to go gently, and I'm not going to hurt you. This time? You fuck me." He fumbled in the nightstand, producing a couple of condoms and a tube.

Nathan's eyes followed Sean's fingers as he ripped open the packets, sliding one condom on himself with practiced ease before rolling the other, more slowly, over Nathan's erection. "Not that I have a problem with that, but...Jesus, Sean, you do that again and I'm not gonna last to fuck you!"

Sean grinned and pulled his fingers back reluctantly, reaching for the tube. "Lend me a hand here, then?"

Grinning back at him, Nathan extended a hand and wiggled his fingers. At any other time it would have been ridiculous, but as Sean squeezed a generous amount of lube onto the waving fingers, it just seemed suggestive. He spread some on his own hand, and shifted to straddle Nathan's hips, reaching down to slick Nathan's hard cock, feeling the heat and weight of him through the thin rubber. "Remember what to do with that?"

Nathan's finger probed insistently at his entrance. "It's not been _that_ long."

"No, I guess - fuck, Nathan!" The finger slid in smoothly, twisted and withdrew to be replaced by two, stretching him and opening him out then bending to reach precisely - "Fuck!"

"Good?"

Sean nodded, trying to catch his breath. "Too good. Ready?"

"Ready."

"Okay." Sean blew out a long breath, and took hold, lining himself up carefully. "Might want to hold on to something."

Hot, slick hands grasped his hips, steadying him as he lowered himself carefully. Fuck, it was tight. Tight and hot and hard and perfect. He'd never had a lover fit him quite so perfectly. "God, Nate, you feel - "

"Fucking wonderful," Nathan supplied. "Sean, just...oh, God, yeah. Like that. Just like that."

Sean couldn't reply, couldn't form words. All his concentration was focused on Nathan. Nathan, below him, looking up at him like he was his world. Nathan, in him, hard and hot and driving up to meet him each time he slid down. Nathan's hands, moving from his hips to his chest as he leaned forward for a kiss. Nathan's thighs, brushing against his back. Nathan's cock, hammering into him. Nathan's shoulders, tense under his hands. Nathan's entire body, tensing and tight and suddenly still then convulsing. Nathan's voice, yelling his name. Desperately, Sean wrapped a hand around his dick, pumping hard for a moment until his balls pulled up and his world went white and he collapsed, sweating and spent, onto Nathan's chest.

"Uh, Sean?"

Slowly, Sean forced his way back to reality. "Nathan? Are you okay?"

The laughter shook all the way through Nathan's chest up through Sean and through both their bodies as they lay stuck together. "Understatement of the century, but I sure could use some of that water right now."

"Right, sure, just give me a moment here." Sean bowed his head and reached behind him, holding Nathan firmly as he lifted off, hissing slightly as Nathan's deflating cock slipped out of him. 

A hand under his chin forced him to look up. "Sean? You okay? I didn't hurt you or - "

"Peachy." Sean summoned up a shaky smile. "No, you didn't, that was just...intense."

Nathan looked smug, and Sean cursed himself for admitting that. He'd never hear the end of it now. He swung his leg around and stood up, rolling the condom off carefully and knotting it. A swift indrawn breath made him look around. Nathan was staring up at him. "Sure you're okay?"

"Oh, yeah." Nathan pushed himself up on his elbows. "Damn, Sean, you look so fucking hot like that."

"Like...?"

"Naked and sweaty and rumpled."

Sean laughed. "You have odd taste in men, Nate."

"Only the best." Nathan grinned and laced his fingers together behind his head. "Hurry up. I'm getting cold here."

"Then get your ass off the bed and get your own water." Sean lobbed the used condoms into the wastebasket and crossed the room to snag the bottle himself, draining it in one long swallow before reaching for another from the fridge. "Staying?"

"If that's okay."

Sean tossed the bottle across the room to Nathan and followed it, crawling back into the bed and curling up against his side. "Definitely."

Nathan stopped drinking for a moment to kiss him soundly. "Then I'm staying. Though, I have to ask - what's that buzzing noise?"

Sean listened for a moment. Something was buzzing. Something in his jacket..."Fuck, my cell! I'm sorry, I have to take this, just...hold on. I'm right there." He leaned over the side of the bed, frantically searching through the pile of clothing until he extracted his phone, flipping it open and bringing it up to his ear.

"Sean."

He groaned. He'd known it could only be one person at 2 a.m. Her grasp of time zones was deplorable. "Summer." Behind him, Nathan threw his head back on the pillows and laughed. 

"So, tell me if it worked. Did you go out?"

"Yes, Summer, I went out." Nathan's hand stroked along his back. "And then I came home."

"Home? You're staying?"

"Summer, I really don't want to talk about that right now. Do you have any idea what time it is here?" The hand moved lower, caressing his hip.

"Nope," she said cheerfully. "Er...eight in the morning?"

" _Two_ in the morning."

"Oh! Oh, did I interrupt? Is he still there?"

"Yes, you interrupted." Nathan's hand took firm hold and pulled him back onto the bed. Sean yelped. 

Nathan plucked the phone out of his hand. "Hi, Summer. Yes, he's here. Yes, I'm here. Yes, he got laid. Good _night_ , Summer." He closed the phone and tapped it against his shoulder thoughtfully. "So why do you have to answer when she calls?"

Sean sighed. "You've got the phone. Check the voicemail."

Nathan raised an eyebrow.

"Just do it, Nate."

His free arm holding Sean closely against him, Nathan flipped the phone open again and hit the speed-dial for voicemail. After a moment, he began to laugh. " _She_ does that?"

"Every time I refuse to answer her," Sean confirmed. It really was comfortable being in bed with Nathan. Like having a whole body pillow, but a warm one. "Fills it up. Completely. Yesterday she called in reinforcements. That's why you couldn't leave a message."

"Guess she really cares about you. It's kinda sweet."

"Right," Sean mumbled. Comfortable. Warm. Relaxed. Sleepy.

"You falling asleep on me, Sean?"

He cracked one eye open. "If you had any decency, you'd do the same."

"You're a fine one to talk about decency, after you just -"

"Nate? Go to sleep. Or just shut up and let me sleep."

"See? I knew you were drunk."

Sean couldn't even be bothered to summon a reply to that. He was dimly aware of Nathan throwing the cell phone into the muddled pile of clothes on the floor and settling him closer before sleep pulled him away completely.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Sean wasn't quite sure what it was that woke him the next morning. It could have been the way his head was pounding, reminding him that he really should have drunk more water before sleeping. It could have been the urgent need to piss, reminding him that even though he hadn't drunk enough water, he'd drunk more than enough beer. It could have been the morning sunlight streaming across from the kitchen directly onto his face. Most likely, though, it was Nathan's nose buried in his ear and Nathan's hand twitching on his chest. Nathan, of course, was still sound asleep.

Unable to prevent a smile at the adorable picture Nathan presented while sleeping, Sean extricated himself carefully and padded through to the bathroom without bothering about clothes. Nathan had already seen the show, after all, and it was a warm morning. Doing the necessary and splashing his face with cold water, Sean caught sight of himself in the mirror. He was grinning. In the morning, and before coffee. It was unheard of. He also had some interesting purple marks along his collarbone and yes - he stretched his neck under the light just to make sure - right in his clavicle. And he was still grinning.

Shaking his head at his own foolishness, Sean went back through to the kitchen and started the coffee maker, leaning back against the counter and opening yet another bottle of water to drink as he waited for it to brew. Nathan had rolled over onto his front and spread out to fill all the available space in the bed, one arm dangling over the side, fingertips brushing against the pile of clothing hastily abandoned the night before. As coffee began to drip through the filter, Sean wondered exactly how Nathan would react when he woke and realized where he was - and what had happened. Sure, he'd seemed pretty certain the night before, but in the cold light of day?

"'s that coffee I smell?"

Okay. Time to find out. "Yes. Not quite ready yet."

Nathan's head lifted slightly and he squinted across the room. "Fuck, my eyes! Sean? That you?"

"It's me."

"Help?"

"With what?"

Nathan rolled over and sat up, groaning. "Went to sleep with my contacts in. Wanted to impress you."

"Oh, Nathan, you idiot!" Sean crossed the room rapidly and caught his hands. "No, don't rub them. Bring any solution?"

"No." Nathan grinned hopefully. "Hey, did we...?"

Sean braced himself. "Did we what?"

"Fuck?"

"Yes, we did."

Nathan's grin widened. "Good. Thought maybe I dreamt it." Sean had a moment to be relieved at that reaction before Nathan reached out to him blindly and pulled him close for a kiss. "Wanna do it again?"

"Ask a stupid question," Sean laughed, kissing him back then making a face at the slightly sour taste of morning-breath. "Sort your eyes out first. There are some drops in the bathroom cabinet. Best I can do."

"'kay." Nathan hesitated. "Um, Sean? Point me?"

Sean guided Nathan over the clothes, across the room and into the tiny bathroom, making sure he held the eye-drops in his hand before closing the door and fishing a couple of mugs out of the kitchen cupboard. A few minutes later, Nathan emerged, his eyes somewhat bloodshot, still blinking. 

Sean handed him a mug of coffee. "Milk, no sugar. Right?"

"Right." Nathan sipped at it gratefully. "Thanks. So, was it...was I...was it okay?"

"Want me to write you a review? I'm sure your fans would love to see it published somewhere."

"Fuck you."

"Already did. My turn."

"Good enough for round two, huh?" Nathan grinned over his mug.

"Mind-blowingly fan-fucking-tastic," Sean pronounced solemnly, trying to stop the smile from splitting his face. "No regrets?"

"Only that we didn't do it sooner." Nathan reached out to run one finger lightly along Sean's arm, provoking a shiver of reaction. "Your turn? You mean, you fuck me?"

Sean set his coffee mug down in the sink. "Only if you want to, Nate."

"I want to."

"Good," Sean breathed, moving closer. "So do I." Taking Nathan's mug and putting it securely on the counter, Sean stretched up to kiss him, running his tongue lightly over Nathan's lips until they parted to let him in. They both groaned as Nathan pulled Sean up against him. Fingers digging into his back, Sean tasted coffee and sleep mixed with the flavor of Nathan - a flavor he suspected could rapidly become addictive. He broke the kiss, breathless, and grinned at the dazed look in Nathan's eyes. "Think we could take this back to bed?"

"Or floor. Floor works for me. Whatever involves not taking my hands off of you."

"Are you ever serious?" Sean began to tow Nathan slowly across the room, stumbling slightly as he did his best to keep his own hands, and arms, and legs, and every other part of him possible in contact with Nathan.

"Hey, I'm serious. Just because I fell into your manly embrace last night doesn't mean I'm easy."

Sean snickered, feeling contrary evidence hardening already against his thigh.

"I mean it! I don't just jump into bed with the first person that wiggles their hips at me," Nathan protested, dropping onto the mattress and tugging at Sean's arm to bring him down.

Sean wiggled his hips, pushed Nathan flat onto his back and knelt over him.

"Okay, well, if it's you, then maybe I do." Nathan grinned. "Fuck me now?"

"Not yet. I have revenge to get." Sean lowered his head to nip at Nathan's neck, biting and kissing his way downward. 

"Revenge?"

Sean looked up at Nathan and pointed at his neck. " _Someone_ decided it would be a good idea to cover my neck and shoulders in hickeys last night." He fastened his mouth to Nathan's hip and started making his own mark on the lightly tanned skin.

"Oh. Hey, what are you - ow! Oh. Oh, Sean, that's kinda..."

"Mmmm."

It was slower this time, less frantic. Sean took his time to explore Nathan's body, finding all the responsive places, discovering the different sounds he could get by kissing, biting or pinching. In return, Nathan made it his mission to discover every one of Sean's ticklish spots, including the one behind his knees that left him weak with laughter and trying hard not to kick Nathan in the face for his persistence. When the fingers retreated and were replaced by the rough swipe of a hot tongue, Sean shivered, rolled over and dragged Nathan's mouth up to his own for a sloppy, desperate kiss, jerking as their cocks brushed together and electricity sparked.

"Now?"

"Now. Roll over." Sean reached out to the nightstand, and pulled out a couple more condoms, dropping one by Nathan and ripping the other one open himself.

Nathan was quicker, tearing the packet with his teeth and wrapping hot fingers around Sean's dick. "My turn," he said, and with teasing slowness unrolled it down Sean's erection.

By the time he reached the base, Sean was panting for breath and harder than he'd ever been. "Nathan..."

"Oh, you want to do something with that now?" 

Sean suppressed a grin. "Yeah, something." He grabbed the lube from where it had landed the night before, and tossed the other condom over to Nathan. "You do something with that. Then roll over."

Nathan broke eye contact for a moment to put the condom on then shook his head. "No, Sean. I want to see you."

" _How_ long since you bottomed?"

Nathan scowled and rolled over on to his front, bringing his knees up. "Next time."

"Next time," Sean agreed quietly, privately wondering if there could ever be a next time. "Nate, it'll be good, I promise. I just don't want to hurt you." He squeezed lube onto his fingers, warming it in his hands and slicking himself quickly before reaching out. "Fuck, Nate, you're tight! Can you relax for me here?"

"Trying," said Nathan's muffled voice from the pillows.

Sean waited for the muscles to relax before pushing in further, turning his finger and reaching, searching...

"Fuck, Sean!" Heat clamped down on his finger then loosened, quivering. "That's not, I mean... _fuck_."

He slid a second finger in next to the first, stroking across Nathan's prostate again. "Feels good?"

Nathan's hips bucked. "Jesus, Sean, just fuck me already!"

"Not yet." Sean added a third finger, stretching him carefully, running his other hand soothingly over Nathan's back. He was aching to push inside but determined not to rush. "Okay, Nate?"

"Would be if you'd just....oh, fuck, Sean!"

Sean closed his eyes and tried not to bite right through his lip as Nathan closed around his cock, tighter and hotter and better than he'd ever imagined. "Still okay?"

"Sean..." Nathan breathed, arching back against him. "You're not...you didn't...oh, fuck, just don't stop. Don't ever stop."

Relieved, Sean grinned and began to move slowly in and out, feeling the push of tight muscles welcoming him with every movement. Nathan moaned beneath him, head buried in pillows and hands grasping frantically at the sheets. Sean's control began to waver at the sound, and for a moment he regretted insisting on this position, wishing he could see Nathan's face. "Nathan?"

"Not the time for philosophical discussion, Sean," Nathan gasped. "Jesus, I need...need more."

Tension trickled along his spine, coiled in his belly, set his thighs trembling. Sean bent forwards, laying his chest over Nathan's back and hooked one arm around Nathan's hips, reaching around with his right hand to curl fingers around Nathan's straining cock. Nathan groaned at the contact, thrusting into his hand. Sean aimed carefully and drove in harder, faster, desperate to come and more desperate to wait. Nathan shuddered, moving urgently between Sean's hand and Sean's cock, tipping his head back for a frantic kiss as he wailed his release into Sean's mouth. Sean pushed in one last time, whole body spasming as his orgasm finally took him. "Oh, God, Nate!"

Nathan slid down onto the bed, taking Sean with him as they both collapsed in a tangle of limbs. "You okay, Sean?"

Sean giggled, laughter shaking through him.

"Oh, ow, I - don't do that!"

"Sorry." Sean brought the chuckles under control. "Hold still a moment, relax for me?" He pulled out carefully, wincing when Nathan hissed quietly. "You okay?"

"I asked first." Nathan rolled onto his side, gingerly removing the condom and handing it over before resting his head on one arm to watch Sean move across the room to dispose of them again. 

"I'm...okay isn't enough of a word. Little bit worried about you."

"Don't be. I'm fine. Better than fine." Nathan offered a lazy smile. "Come back here."

Sean did, willingly going into Nathan's arms. "Was it okay?"

Nathan kissed him gently. "Mind-blowingly fan-fucking-tastic."

Sean smiled, his hand absently caressing Nathan's hip. "Good."

"Definite understatement. So, ready to talk?"

"About what?"

"How you're not leaving LA for good."

Sean stiffened, hand stilling. "Really rather not talk about that when I'm naked in bed with you."

"Damn." Nathan sighed. "Better get dressed then, because we're going to talk about it."

"Nathan, I've already -"

A hand over his mouth stopped him talking. "Get dressed."

Frowning, Sean nodded. The hand withdrew. "It's not going to make -"

"Get dressed."

***

Fifteen minutes later, showered, dressed and drinking fresh coffee to the soundtrack of Nathan singing enthusiastically in the shower, Sean pulled his case out from under the bed again and began loading books into it. It wasn't so much that he wanted to leave LA for good. He definitely didn't want to leave LA if there was any chance that this thing with Nathan was anything more than a night of incredible sex. Still, there were times when the universe was just yelling at you to give it up right now, and this seemed like one of those times.

"Sean?"

He looked up from his crouching position by the case. Nathan was out of the bathroom with a pitifully inadequate towel wrapped around his waist. "Nathan. Coffee's by the sink."

"Thanks. What are you doing?"

Sean looked back down at his case. It was nearly full. "Packing."

"I can see that. Why?"

"I..." Suddenly, he didn't know. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to leave LA. He didn't want to leave Nathan. He didn't want to leave his dreams. Mostly, at that moment, he didn't want to leave Nathan. "Because I can't take being knocked back every time I try to find work. And like I said, I didn't renew the rental on this place, so I need to be out by four."

"Right." Nathan's hand descended on his shoulder. "When's your flight?"

"Six tomorrow night." He tucked one more book into the case and pulled the lid down, unable to meet Nathan's eyes. "I was going to find a hotel."

"Sean..." The hand retreated. "Can I help?"

The room blurred and he blinked rapidly. "There's another case under the bed, but most of my stuff's already -"

"I didn't mean that. Sean, would you just fucking look at me for a moment?"

Taking a deep breath, Sean turned and looked. His shoulders sagged, and he rocked back on his heels until he was sitting on the floor. "God, Nathan, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? Sorry for giving up on yourself or sorry for screwing my brains out?" Nathan regarded him steadily. "'Cause I'm telling you, Sean, last night wasn't just screwing. Not for me."

"Nor for me," he admitted. "But I shouldn't. Shouldn't have let myself, knowing..."

"That you're running away? Sean, let me help. If I can. Don't give up on this, not yet. Please?"

"What, Nate? What exactly are you offering here? A quick five minutes on the casting couch with your latest director in the desperate hope he might find me a job?"

"No! Fuck, Sean, you're more than good enough to make it on your own. I'm offering...well, support, I guess. If you'll take it. Somewhere to stay when you're here. Someone to get drunk with when the idiot fucking casting directors are too fucking blind to see how good you are. Someone who'll happily sic Adam and his damn guns on them. And, most importantly, someone who'll fuck you senseless as often as you like." Nathan shifted, impatiently. The towel slipped further. "Come on, Sean. It's gotta be better than sitting alone in this dump or running home with your tail between your legs. Stay at my place for tonight, at least."

Sean stared at him, throat tight with emotion.

"Sean? Say something, for fuck's sake!"

"Your towel's fallen off," he said, inanely. Then, "Yes?"

"Yes?" Nathan's face lit with hope, the towel forgotten on the floor. 

"Yes."

"Yes!" Nathan tackled Sean, sending him flat on his back. 

It was some time before Sean finished packing.

***

"Ow."

"Ow to you too, Sean. You packed these damn cases, your fault they're heavy."

"Books usually are," Sean retorted, shunting the last case onto the landing and taking a last look around the apartment. "Don't worry about it. I'll pay the excess baggage when I check in tomorrow."

"No, you won't." Nathan stretched. "You'll leave some at my place. If there's anything you need urgently, I can bring it over to New York. Got a photoshoot there next weekend."

Sean pulled the door closed with a final click, and heaved one of the cases up. "Need a place to stay?"

"Nah, the studio's paying for a hotel." Nathan picked up the other case, and began to lug it down the stairs. "Jesus, I'm hungry. Want to stop for breakfast on the way?" He looked back. "Sean?"

Sean followed, the case clattering angrily against each step. "So I can stay with you, but you won't stay with me? I actually have a decent loft apartment in Manhattan, you know, bigger than a shoe box."

"Yeah, but does it have an x-box?"

"What?" Sean overtook Nathan on the landing and started on the next flight of stairs. 

"X-box, Sean. Lifeblood. _Halo_."

"Oh. Computer games."

"Not computer games, Sean! Right, that's it. Breakfast, then Halo. Next weekend, you come help me test out the hotel bed."

Sean stopped for breath on the last landing. "Or, you could stay with me."

"Or I could stay with you. Does your apartment building in Manhattan have electricity and elevators that work?"

Sean rolled his eyes. "Yes."

"Well, why didn't you say so? I'll stay with you." Nathan stopped by the front door. 

"You will?"

"I will. I can bring my own x-box! Now, move your ass. I need food. Coffee is good, sex with you is better, food is best."

"Might have to work on your priorities." Sean stopped for a kiss as he pulled the door open one last time.

"They vary. Hey, how do we get a cab out here?" Nathan set the case down and frowned at the street.

Sean grinned. "We don't. I drive the mean nasty old rustbucket."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I know I've strayed from standard/common use of condoms here, both in fic and in practise. There are/were character reasons for this at the time of writing, but looking back now, I can see I didn't make those explicit in the story. Sorry.)

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to lvs2read for hand holding through this and telling me where I'd used British colloquialisms.


End file.
